


pride

by eldritchbrainrot



Category: Arokan Tales
Genre: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritchbrainrot/pseuds/eldritchbrainrot
Summary: here's ace: https://64.media.tumblr.com/5793c2e9facf2bf1b615198335d18a52/043784d756c37a1c-28/s1280x1920/ec682b90bc8fbc0ef5e9b0c6998bfae99d48ef7f.png
Kudos: 2





	pride

**Author's Note:**

> here's ace: https://64.media.tumblr.com/5793c2e9facf2bf1b615198335d18a52/043784d756c37a1c-28/s1280x1920/ec682b90bc8fbc0ef5e9b0c6998bfae99d48ef7f.png

He’s not good for you in the slightest. You know it, he revels in it. In the way you jump when he whispers your name, in the way you tilt your head when his fangs graze your neck, in the way he doesn’t ever need to have you in his thrall to get you to obey. You’ve seen him at his worst and at his not-as-bad; there was no good in him, you were sure of it.

That might be precisely what had drawn you to him in the first place.

And as you stand outside his door close to midnight, waiting for him to let you in, you think to yourself that this is it. This will be the last time you find yourself at his doorstep, the last time you meet the mischievous grin that wordlessly greets you when the door opens. It hurts your pride too much to know that he’s the one person in the entire world your logical brain stops working around.

“Care for a drink?” Ace asks as he closes the door behind you.

“Let’s not make an event of it,” you tell him, turning to face him as you shrug off your jacket. “We both know why I’m here.”

“For the conversation, I’m certain,” he says, amusement plain in his deep voice.

There it was again, that infuriating smirk that made his green eye glint because he knew exactly how it got under your skin. You can’t help but fall headfirst into the trap. You shove him back against his door by the shoulders.

“This is it, Ace,” you warn him, your voice low. “I need to get you out of my system. I don’t plan to come over here again.”

A flurry of emotions pass over his expressive features - confusion, hurt, anger. Then his face settles back into that smirk, his eyes hard.

“Then I suppose we should make this one count, then,” he tells you.

He takes hold of your waist and switches your positions before your eyes can even track the movement. His much taller frame almost towers over you as he studies your features. There’s a fire behind his blind eye just before he crashes his lips ferociously into yours. He tastes of desperation and cinnamon and he kisses you like he’s begging you to stay. He presses his waist against you as he takes your face into his hands, pinning you with every part of his body. He guides your head up a bit towards him as he traces his tongue across your bottom lip before pushing past them and meshing with yours.

Though he has no body heat to give off, you’ve enough for the both of you. Your breath is hot against his mouth when he takes a step back and grabs onto the collar of your shirt. He walks backwards and drops down onto his leather couch, not even affording you the comfort of a bed. As he falls onto the couch he pulls you down, forcing you to your knees before him. 

“Do you prefer to be beneath me?” he asks, his voice quiet and low. 

Your only response is a glare that would reduce any mortal to ashes. He merely chuckles at your anger. 

“You may as well make yourself useful while you’re down there,” he tells you, licking his lips. 

“I’ll kill you,” you warn him.

“You didn’t bring a stake,” he replies with a shrug, leaning back to unbuckle his shorts and push them down to his thighs.

If it was for his sake, you wouldn’t be there. But as you reach forward to free him from his boxers, you can only think of yourself. You’re using him just as much as he’s using you, after all. So you take him into your hand and look at him as you pump your hand up and down, challenging him to break eye contact. He’s at your mercy for the time being, and the thought of bringing this powerful immortal being down so low is a rush of pleasure all on its own. He shivers under your expertise and his eyes narrow, but they do not move from your own. 

He crooks his fingers towards you and you rise to your feet. His cold hands wrap around your waist and pull your jeans down. You step out of them while he takes the fabric of your shirt between his hands and rips it apart as easily as if he were shredding paper. You stand before him in undergarments and watch as his eyes tour your body, pupil blown with desire.

His hands fly to your waist and pull you forward, digging into your hips. You lean into his touch and crawl onto the couch, straddling his waist. You can feel him eagerly poking against the seat of your underwear. His hands holding on to your waist, he has you grind back and forth against him and you allow him to control your movements for the moment. 

“Just like that,” he tries to encourage you.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you reply, though you have no intentions to stop.

As you continue to grind, his rough hands slide up your back and deftly unclasp your bra. He tosses it somewhere on the floor and one of his hands is back on your hip again. His free hand moves between your legs. Instead of removing it, he slides your underwear to the side and lines himself up against your entrance. 

Despite yourself and despite the oh-so familiar sensation, a gasp escapes your lips. He wraps his arms around your waist and hugs you to him as he thrusts upwards, forcing out a moan from you. It’s always a struggle at first to take him but you love that feeling anyway, though you’d never tell him as much. Little by little, you can feel yourself stretching to take him in until his grunt lets you know what you’ve accomplished. 

With your chest pressed against his face, you wrap your arms around his back and grind your waist down against him, gyrating back and forth slowly. One of his hands snakes its way to your hair and grabs a handful, yanking your head back roughly. You can only see the ceiling of his living room but you don’t stop moving against him. A kinder person might’ve kissed their way up to your neck, but this is no kind person. Instead his mouth immediately finds your neck as they had done so often in the past. 

As always, when his fangs scrape against your throat you’re reminded that he’s a killer. Plenty of people had met their fates at the end of his teeth, and yet here you were, offering every part of yourself up towards him. The thoughts of doubt are replaced almost instantaneously by the high that his bite brings, euphoria flooding your veins as your own blood dribbles down the side of your neck. You’re more than aware that it’s a trick, a predatory evolutionary development that prevents their prey from screaming and fighting back once they’ve got their fangs in them. But it’s a damned good trick. Your hips are working faster than before and you’re squeezing against him. He pulls away from your neck, your blood coating his mouth. The experience is just as blissful for him and you watch him close his eyes in pleasure as he licks his lips. You think he’s going to make another snide remark, but instead he lets out a growl that makes you clench around him. 

In an instant, your back is pressed against the dark couch and he’s hovering over you. As your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him into you as deeply as possible, his hand finds your neck. He cups his fingers under your chin and forces your head backwards. He leans down to bite you again as he begins to thrust his hips; slowly at first as if adjusting to the new position, and then much faster, without warning. He drinks you in as he thrusts into you, only pulling out as far as your legs will allow him. As the new wave of euphoria overtakes you, you wonder if he ever feels tempted to drink you dry, if the animal in him ever tries to overpower the man. Even though he’s had plenty of opportunities, he’s never given you any reason to believe he couldn’t control himself. Tonight is no different. 

When he’s finished, he pulls away easily and pins both of your wrists above your head with one hand. He leans down and puts more of his weight on you as he thrusts. One of his hands finds your breasts, taking a nipple between his thick fingers. He tugs on the point until you can’t help but allow a moan, your eyes rolling back in your head. He works your breast between his hand as his thrusts become longer and more drawn out, a usual sign that he’s almost reaching his climax.

“Done so soon?” you taunt up at him, smirking.

“Shut the fuck up,” he tells you.

“Make me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to move his hand from your wrist and shove three fingers in your mouth. Though you know it can only work against your agenda of making him last longer, you immediately press your tongue against his fingers as you take them into your mouth. You suck on them and give him a longing look that quickly turns into a smirk when his eyes widen. Competitively, he groans audibly and doubles down on the attention he’s placing on your chest, drawing a few full body shakes out of you with each flick of the sensitive point. You tighten your legs around his waist in response and begin to move with him, pushing down as he pushes up into you. You can feel his legs start to shake and laugh right in his face.

“This is why I’m done with you,” you tell him, cruelly. “For a being capable of other amazing feats, you don’t seem to have the ability to make me come first.”

“And yet,” he pants out between thrusts, “i have you running back to me on all fours at least once a week, begging me to make you feel something.”

“I only come back out of pity. Without me, you wouldn’t score.”

He pulls out of you suddenly, and the sudden departure makes your back arch and you gasp in surprise. He grabs your hips and swiftly flips you over as if you weighed nothing at all. You maneuver to your knees and within seconds he has your underwear moved to the side again and shoves his way inside of you. One of his hands curls around your waist and finds its way between your legs. As he thrusts into you from behind, one of his fingers finds their way to your clit and begins to move in circles. 

As soon as he touches you, your body gives out. He presses a hand against your lower back to keep you down and your legs begin to quiver just as his had. The new position has him stroking right to that sensitive spot inside of you, and you bite down on your lip to keep from the satisfaction of letting him hear just how good he was managing to make you feel. You can’t hold back anymore and give in to the rising pressure. You moan and you don’t stop moaning, even after you approach and experience your first climax. He must feel the way you clench and release against him and hear the way your breath shudders, but he doesn’t stop quite yet.

He moves the hand from your back to your hips, and adds a second finger to the pressure against your clit. He pulls you back into him as he thrusts up into you, and you lose yourself in the motion. You don’t know it takes but he reaches his climax as you hit your second, and the two of you ascend together. Still inside, he leans down to rest against you, panting heavily.

“When will I see you again?”

For the sake of your pride, you don’t answer.


End file.
